


Exile on Pyke

by Anonymous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Exile, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Iron Islands (Westeros), King's Landing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The war is lost and Daenerys is sent with Yara back to the Iron Islands as part of an unofficial union that will benefit the Iron Islands.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark, Yara Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Anonymous





	Exile on Pyke

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think!! x 
> 
> *Daenerys was never killed

Yara Greyjoy stared out at Blackwater, watching the water's movements that was illuminated by nearby light. 

"Your grace, this is the only viable option for the Iron Isles." 

"Sacrifice one for many." 

Her right hand man was silent, unrolling the parchment and getting a quill and ink ready for her signature. 

"It's ready for your approval, your grace." 

Yara turned around and nodded, sitting down at the table to read the agreement. 

_Tomorrow morning, the first day of autumn, will begin the unofficial union between Yara Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Islands, Lady Reaper of Pyke, and Daenerys Targaryen, who has renounced all formal titles, and the unofficial union between Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands and Sansa Stark of Winterfell, Queen of the North. These unofficial unions will grant the Iron Islands independence and grant the Iron Isles trade opportunities. The unofficial unions will serve as a remedy for potential civil wars that shall not plague future generations. It will create a system of balance, the unofficial union between Theon Greyjoy and her grace, Sansa Stark, will provide the Iron Isles trade opportunities as well as protection provided by the North. The unofficial union between Yara Greyjoy and Daenerys Targaryen will ensure that Daenerys Targaryen will not leave the Iron Islands nor will she seek power, new or regained. The relation between Theon and Yara Greyjoy will bring the ancient houses of Greyjoy and Stark closer together while also ensuring House Targaryen will not live on for any further generations. Yara Greyjoy and her grace, Sansa Stark, will be allowed to pursue heirs to their thrones, but will not be granted the growth of their respective houses with either Theon Greyjoy or Daenerys Targaryen as fathers or mothers to the heirs._

_King Brandon Stark, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm_

She had to restrain herself from tearing the parchment apart. She didn't want to effectively marry Daenerys Targaryen. She didn't want to marry anyone. She was content with the whores she met on her voyages with her loyal crew, sailing back to the Iron Isles to rejoin her regular bedwenches. She was not opposed to Daenerys Targaryen, she supposed she could have been matched with someone less agreeable. But an unofficial union to the person known around the Realm as the 'mad queen' wasn't ideal. But apparently that was the price she was willing to pay for the Iron Isles' independence, trade opportunities and protection. Sacrifice one for the good of the many. 

\---

Daenerys sat in her cell, cold and wet. She had been informed of the agreement, and had agreed, considering it was that or this cell for the rest of her life. She had nothing now. At least in the Iron Isles she could have her own bed chamber and clean linens. Her cell door was opened, a guard picking her up off the cell floor by her upper arm. She was escorted to what she believed to be her own chambers now that she signed the agreement. The door was opened and she was not so gently pushed in, the door sealing shut behind her. She gravitated towards the great fire, shivering as she felt heat begin to warm her cold skin. She felt weak and powerless. That's how she was meant to feel for the rest of her life she supposed. She had lost. She jumped as the chamber door burst open, a man in Greyjoy armor striding in. 

"Clothing." 

He said as he set a wool dress onto her bed, laying a cloak over it. 

"The Iron Isles are colder than what you've been used to. We leave tomorrow at dawn, two guards will be posted outside your chambers and will escort you to the fleet." 

And with that he left, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. Daenerys slowly sunk to the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

\--- 

"Where is she?" 

"Captains quarters, your grace." 

They had set sail for the Iron Isles after Yara briefly met with Theon. Their conversation was mainly hissing at each other, Yara stating that she had no desire to marry. Theon emphasized the opportunities the Iron Isles would now have, saying to Yara that having to keep the Targaryen in a chamber should be the least of her worries. As Yara walked to the fleet she heard a rumor that Daenerys had been heard crying all night, a guard being rumored to have seen her teary eyed and red in the face. She had no intention of treating her as a wife, but acknowledged that sailing to a new place under their circumstances would be enough to trigger the dragon queen's crumbling. She banged on the door, hearing a faint 'yes?'. She pushed the door open, stepping inside to see her on the bed, her knees pulled to her chest, her head in between her knees. Daenerys looked up and saw Yara, and was soon scrambling to feet to show some respect. 

"Your...grace," 

"Please, you don't need to call me that, Yara is fine." 

Yara said softly, beginning to see how fragile the Targaryen really was. Her state was worse than the rumors. But before she could say anything else, someone was calling for her. She bowed her head and took her leave, gently closing the door to not cause the woman any more distress. She was still resentful of the union and didn't plan on coming back to talk to the woman. 

\--- 

"Your grace, what shall we do with..." 

Yara groaned. She had important matters to attend to, matters that were more important than a forlorn former queen. 

"Take her up, give her to Aoife." 

The man bowed his head, disappearing to the captain's quarters. Yara shook her head and continued on with the matters that required her attention. 

\---

Daenerys was set upon a horse, a man on a horse in front of hers guiding her horse with a rope. She stared at the great towers of Pyke, wondering if the structure was even stable. Her horse was stopped, a stable boy coming along. She was yanked down from the horse, quickly being pushed into the castle. 

"Aoife!" 

An old servant came to them, her face worn by the harsh elements of the region. 

"She is to stay here indefinitely. Her grace has requested you watch her until her grace returns." 

"Aye, as her grace wishes." 

Daenerys followed the quick old woman, up spiraling staircases and down stone halls. She realized how dark and cold the stone keep was. It was cold and wet and unpleasant, extremely different compared to her stays in Westeros. She was brought into a chamber, the walls bare, the windows allowing drafts, and a small hearth. She knew that she was going to freeze to death in this room. Aoife brought out a variety of furs, setting them on the bed and began to light the hearth as well as many candles. Daenerys slowly sat upon the bed, feeling the pelts beneath her. 

"I can bring you some books if you'd like. We don't have many, but I'm sure I could find you some." 

"Please, I don't suppose there's much else to do."

Daenerys was trying to joke, but the old servant didn't understand. She closed the chamber door and left Daenerys sitting alone in her new home. 

\---

A fortnight later and it was becoming colder. Yara stumbled up the spiral staircase, holding onto the stone around her. She'd been down in the village drinking with her men, snogging the village whores. Anything to avoid coming back to the castle. She didn't wish to be in the great towers anymore, that's where the Targaryen reigned. She wished to avoid the silver haired woman at all costs. But tonight, she wouldn't have a choice. 

"Your grace," 

She spun around and saw old Aoife. 

"Aoife! What can I do for you, my darling?" 

"It's the Targaryen girl." 

"What's wrong with her now? Still crying herself to sleep every night?" 

Aoife had helped raise Yara and had raised her better. 

"She will freeze to death." 

"And why is that?" 

"Because you put her up in the coldest chamber in the keep. The girl is not meant for the Iron Isles, she is meant for the sun. No matter how many fur pelts I give her or how hearty the fire is, she is frozen." 

Yara stood up straighter, quickly sobering up. She was guilty. The only chambers in the keep she had routinely upkept was the important chambers and great halls, along with the parts of the stone keep the servants and cooks used. Pyke wasn't known for hosting guests. 

"What do you suggest?" 

"Keep your wife warm. And maybe say more than one word to her in over a fortnight while you're at it. She's too thin and she's suffering from melancholia." 

Yara frowned. Aoife was right. She always was. 

"Retire for the evening. I'll take care of this myself." 

She nodded and gave Yara a look that told her that she was doing the right thing. Yara walked to Daenerys’ chamber, noticing how unforgiving this part of the structure was. She gave a light knock before entering since there was no answer. There was no answer since Daenerys was burrowed beneath multiple fur pelts and wool blankets, curled into a ball to try and conserve warmth. Yara sat at a chair by a small desk, leaning back and putting her ankle on her opposite knee as her arm rested on the back of the chair. She watched the silver haired woman shiver, her brows furrowed as she concentrated on keeping warm. Yara ran her hand over her chin as if she had a beard. She took notice of the broken window that rainwater was seeping through, as well as the lack of insulation. She had in fact sealed the dragon queen into a stone vault accidentally. She stood up and stepped closer to the bed, seeing a tiny bit of Daenery's exposed collerbone. Yara's own chamber wasn't too far, so she gently hoisted Daenerys into her arms, making sure she was still covered by wool or fur. She didn't want to be seen taking her to her own chambers, but if someone were to see, she didn't want them to see her bare. Daenerys woke up at being lifted, quickly flinching. 

"I'm taking you to my chambers, Aoife says it's too cold for you here." 

Daenerys was still sleepy so she just nodded, the only part she comprehended was her being moved somewhere warm and that she was in Yara's arms. She nestled close to Yara, her cold forehead resting against Yara's warm neck. Daenerys sniffled and tried her best to get closer, though she was soon gently dropped onto an even bigger pile of fur. The bed was already immensely warmer than her own, and the room wasn't drafty. When Yara had dropped Daenerys onto the bed, Daenerys dropped and rolled over, her entire backside being shown to the room. Apparently the room was warm enough for the Targaryen to not immediately cover herself. Yara felt her cheeks get hot at the sight of the perfect ass and she quickly turned around out of respect. But she quickly whipped her head back around for just one more look, which she took in and then returned her line of sight to the wall. Yara was prepared to go sleep elsewhere for the night, but Daenerys stopped her. 

"Yara..." 

"Yes?" 

Daenerys poked her head up from the furs and motioned for Yara to join her. 

"I can sleep elsewhere," 

"No." 

"No?" 

Daenerys propped herself up on her elbow, rubbing her eye. Yara got a full view of Daenerys’ body, swallowing hard. Aoife was right, she was frail. 

"I'm still cold." 

"I can retrieve more fur and wool," 

"No. You will sleep next to me and keep me warm." 

Yara smiled at how bossy the little Targaryen was. 

"As you wish, my queen." 

Yara sat on a chair and took her boots off, setting them beside each other. Then she moved onto her armor, undoing the straps and setting it gently on the table. 

"Are you sure? I can just sleep in your chambers or-" 

"No, come here." 

Yara started approaching the bed, but was stopped. 

"Aren't you going to undress?" 

"I didn't know if you would approve of that." 

"You have been wearing that all day, come and feel the fur against your skin." 

Daenerys mumbled. Yara shyly undressed herself completely, Daenerys watching her with a keen eye. Yara stepped towards the bed and Daenerys rolled onto her side, facing away from Yara. Daenerys felt the dip of the bed, feeling Yara's legs land on the fur and wool. Yara laid on her back, pulling the fur over herself and Daenerys’ naked bodies. Daenerys sunk into the bed, scooting a bit and accidentally wiggling her ass right as Yara reached over to place the furs on her. Yara was stiff, laying on the bed as a corpse laid still. 

"Are you not going to come and keep me warm?" 

Daenerys said as she looked over her shoulder. Yara raised her eyebrows, confused. Was she not doing so? Daenerys huffed and turned onto her other side, lifting herself up to reach over and take Yara's hand. She twisted her body and went back to her spot, pulling Yara's arm. 

"Yara." 

"What? I am doing what you asked of me." 

"Poorly." 

She tugged on Yara's arm more, the brunette reluctantly allowing her arm to touch Daenerys. Daenerys shuffled again, Yara distinctly feeling a breast on her arm. She became even more stiff, holding her breath. 

"Yara, I'm getting cold, collect yourself before I find another to keep me warm." 

At that, Yara eased her arm a little. Daenerys smiled to herself, acknowledging that was probably the most she'd get out of the sailor. She scooted back, pushing her ass against Yara's pelvis, pressing her back against Yara's breasts. Once she heard Daenerys' breathing become steady and even, Yara felt herself relax a little. She pulled Daenerys closer, silver hair coming next to her nose. Yara wasn't as tired as Daenerys, so she stayed up for a little, watching Daenerys' body move up and down with each breath, similar to a ship on the sea. Daenerys turned over to her other side, scooting into Yara's open arms. She unconsciously tangled their legs, her arm becoming tucked between their chests. 

\---

Daenerys woke up before Yara. Yara was a heavy sleeper with slight snoring. Daenerys welcomed the sound of Yara's little snores. She had been so alone in her chamber. All she heard was the cackle of the fire, waves crashing against the castle, and rain pelting the glass. She was happy to wake up in Yara's strong arms. Yara had a strong grip on her, holding her close. Daenerys shifted so that she could look at the Greyjoy better in the morning light. She had worry lines and her face looked weathered, no doubt from the harsh climate of the region. Her arms were muscular, which you couldn't directly see with clothing and armor. She had a strong chest, her collarbones looking muscular instead of dainty like her own. 

"Hm." 

Yara grunted, her eyes squinting as she looked at the light coming through the window. She looked down beside her and quickly noticed she had not woken up beside one of her regular bedwenches, but instead found silver hair. And she was gazing upon her. Watching her sleep. 

"Wha?" 

Yara grumbled. It was too early to have a dragon queen staring at her. 

"You snore." 

"What?" 

Yara rubbed her eyes with one hand, the other arm still being wrapped protectively around Daenerys. 

"You snore. Very lightly, but nonetheless you snore." 

"Sorry to disappoint, your grace." 

Yara said with a light smile, closing her eyes again since it was still too early. Daenerys smiled and rolled onto her back. It felt so good to finally speak to someone. Over a fortnight she had barely spoken to anyone, certainly no one who smiled at her. 

"Please, do not add to my injury." 

"You do not wish for me to call you my queen or your grace?" 

"No...no, I do not to be reminded of my failures. What's done is done. Call me anything other than formal titles, please." 

"Mhm. Daenerys?" 

She giggled at her name, it sounded odd coming out of Yara's mouth. 

"Mhm, no, too long." 

Yara corrected herself after Daenerys scrunched up her nose and shook her head. Daenerys was quickly realizing how cute the eldest Greyjoy was. 

"What about...Dan?" 

Daenerys shook her head again, smiling at how cute Yara looked at coming up with alternative names. It didn't feel as though they had been joined in an unofficial union, instead it felt as if they were long-time friends. 

"Dany?" 

Dany smiled at that, nodding her head. There was a knock at the door that caused Yara to shoot up, pulling a thick wool cloak around herself. Daenerys hid under the fur pelts and wool blankets, peeking over to see who it was. 

"Come, thank you." 

Aoife came in with a giant tray before Yara quickly took it from her. Aoife tended to the fire and attended to some other matters in Yara's chamber. Yara noticed that Aoife had brought two morning meals on the tray. 

"Here, your grace." 

She set down parchment that needed to be signed and drafts for new fleets before turning to the bed that Daenerys was burrowed in. 

"Parcels are being brought from other regions, I put in a request to have something warmer brought for you as well as some new readings." 

Yara couldn’t help but smile at how embarrassed Daenerys looked in that moment. Yara sat at the table and started eating as Aoife bowed and took her leave. 

"There are no secrets in this castle kept from Aoife. Come eat, Aoife says you have become too thin." 

Yara wasted no time as she combed through the different parchments that needed her attention. She saw Daenerys get up and shyly step towards the table. Yara looked up and saw just how thin Daenerys truly was now. 

"There." 

She nodded towards the dress Aoife had left. Daenerys took it and covered her thin frame, smoothing it down before sitting across from Yara. Yara paid her no attention, instead tearing a wheat roll apart while analyzing drafts for a new ship. She put the parchment close to her eyes, squinting at the tiny details. Daenerys picked at her food, moving her porridge around in her bowl. 

"Eat." 

Yara grumbled as she shoveled porridge into her mouth, careful to not spill it on any of her parchment. Daenerys looked up to see that Yara had not even looked up when she uttered the command. 

"No, I'm not hungry." 

"And why is that?" 

Yara set down a piece of parchment and finally looked at her. 

"I'm simply not." 

Yara sighed and sat up straight. 

"What must I do?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"What must I do to keep you happy here?" 

Daenerys didn't reply. 

"Aoife says you're too thin and that you suffer from melancholia. What do you need to no longer be miserable here? You lost, now you must move forward in life. Do not expect me to wait on you, I have to rebuild the Iron Isles to its former glory and deal with the aggravation towards change.” 

Daenerys sunk into her chair, folding her arms across her chest. 

"Shall I send you down to the village with a girl? Would that help? Perhaps you could talk to the villagers? I can send you with enough to pay for nice goods,” 

Daenerys thought about it for a moment and nodded. 

"It's settled. Now eat." 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think!! x


End file.
